


Vixen is a Cougar

by Djinn_n_Tonic



Series: Gotham Taboo [7]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Vixen (Cartoon), Vixen (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Big Ass, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 01:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20827265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinn_n_Tonic/pseuds/Djinn_n_Tonic
Summary: A young man has his dreams come true when a sexy older woman, Mari "Vixen" McCabe, picks him up at a bar.





	Vixen is a Cougar

“Can I buy you ladies a drink?” he asked, giving an asymmetrical and toothy grin and waggling eyebrows. “More than one, I mean, of course!” he stammered out, his own nervousness breaking through the thin façade all too easily. They shared in laughter. A sound he was used to. At least they accepted his offer.

_Alright, you got a nibble, now get the bite_, he thought, hyping himself up.

“Thanks!” the first woman said, taking her drink, before the other two threw in their matching sentiments.

“No problem. My name is…” The women stood up and started walking further into the bar, away from him, in the middle of his introduction. “…you don’t care.”

Defeated, once again, he sat down on the bar stool where one of the women had sat. _That’s all the human warmth I’m getting_, he thought of the warmed-up stool. A silent hand gesture to the bartender signaled for another glass of his choice beverage.

“Struck out again, huh?” Her voice was deep, sultry, and alluring. Her voice may have been soothing, but her words were just salt on his wound. He was at least used to the sting, as he’d said worse to himself in the past.

“Look, I’m not…” Once more he trailed off, this time when he looked over to the softly mocking woman. She was stunning, evident by his stunned silence. The woman was a collection of dessert colored features. Dark chocolate colored hair cut short and left stylishly messy; an order to its presumed chaos. Skin was lighter in tone, milk chocolate to be exact. Rich and creamy, undoubtedly smooth to the touch. Her dress, if what little she wore was enough to call it that, was a dark honey color. Her eyes, most striking of all, were amber in hue; one could call them caramel, even. Though she wore gold jewelry in the form of large hoop earrings and so many matching bracelets he’d have to count them individually to get an exact number, her necklace was bone white. White chocolate, if one wanted to continue the sweets metaphor. He hardly noticed it with her breasts nearly slipping out of the plunging neckline of her dress. “…in the mood,” he finished after a long paragraph’s worth of looking her over.

“Why yes I am,” she replied, as if the last three words he said were a question. His gulp delighted her.

“Like I said, I’m really not in the mood,” he made clearer. She was gorgeous, but so far out of his league that she was playing an entirely different sport than him. He was playing tee-ball and she was playing some discus sport he didn’t know the name of because it was from the future. From another planet.

_He’s struggling_, she thought. _Good. _She preferred her prey to fight, not run. Though he was trying to run from the conversation, she wouldn’t let him. Collecting her impractically small purse, she slipped elegantly off the stool and approached him. The loudening clicks of her heels as she neared drew his attention. The gentle hops of her firm breasts kept it.

“Oh, I don’t have any more money to buy-“ but she stopped short his presumption about who was buying who a drink.

“It’s my treat.” Another silent hand gesture to the bartender later and they were served the two drinks they individually ordered earlier. Her body leaned forward and turned slightly in his direction. Her movements were fluid and subtle, though her intentions were anything but.

Though he had a decent look at her from across the bar, he got a much better one up close. She was incredibly fit, that was obvious to him. Aside from just having a slender figure, she also sported clear, but not overpowering, abdominal muscles. Her arms had definition as well, and though they were partially hidden by her dress, he was certain her thighs would be powerful, too. Even with her incredible and visible fitness and strength, her curves didn’t suffer for it. If anything, they benefitted.

Her breasts were of a considerable size, but not overwhelmingly so. Her acrobatic life had sapped some of the fat from her tits but left her with enough to fill an eager hand, with change left over. Her ass, which was being practically thrown out behind her for him to see, was wide and enticing. No doubt her fitness had kept it firm and tight, but it had enough fat left to make it supple and squeezable.

It wasn’t that he was trying to leer at her; it was that she was flaunting it all. Her dress was comfortably loose but hid almost nothing. The neckline wasn’t plunging - it was deep sea diving. It reached all the way to a couple inches past her belly button. The dress was cut in a similar fashion in the back as well, where it showed all from her neck down to the dimples above her ass. His eager scanning was only broken when he heard that familiar laugh again, from behind him.

Further into the bar, the women he had bought drinks for were chatting it up with some blue suits with grey hair and green backs. The frustration was beginning to well up again, but the mystery woman drew his attention back with her sultry voice.

“You’ve been hunting at the wrong watering hole, baby.” She had regained his attention, but his reaction meant she had to be clearer. “The women here only want two things in their men: money and power. Neither of which you have.”

_Harsh, but fair_. “Gee, thanks,” he couldn’t help but respond. He took a dip of his drink before he felt compelled to say more. He supposed he should have expected as much. He chose an upscale bar, hoping to meet upscale women, and he was anything but. He’d had at least some luck in the noisier bars downtown. Probably because the women couldn’t hear his bad pickup lines, he figured.

He sat there, sipping, for longer than he thought he should. It was mostly due to the silence. Silence paired with her staring at him, smirking. The predatory look in her eyes made him nervous. Not for anything she might do to harm him, but for how blind he was from that point forward.

“Is that why you come here?” He asked, breaking the silence and hopefully his nervousness. “For money and power?” _Not that she’d need it_. Her attire showed she had money. Her demeanor showed she had power.

“I’m too old for that,” she replied, brushing off the notion she was anything like the women he’d been chasing.

“How old are you?”

“You really don’t know anything about women, do you?” He gave a few chuckles, which brightened up her smile.

“Sorry. So, what are you after, then?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“You.”

“…Why me?” He probably should have just thought that rather than said it, but he was curious. He knew he didn’t look like a cannibalistic humanoid underground dweller, out on his first night on the surface world (though his lack of social skills begged to differ). He also wasn’t on par with her beauty. He was the kind of person to blend in effortlessly with a crowd. If he had the guts for it, he could have made a great covert assassin.

“Why not you?” She rested her hand on his shoulder. He jerked at her human contact, but she persisted. “You’re cute, you’re funny, you’re eager to please,” she complimented, and then to drive home that she wasn’t looking for a hand-holding date, she added, “and you sport a nice dick print.” If he had jumped at her hand on his shoulder, he nearly leaped out of his skin when she put her hand on his thigh and squeezed his bulge.

His eyes darted around, looking for the hidden camera or the group of women laughing at their friend following through on their dare about flirting with him. But he saw no such things. He knew he had a larger than average cock, but it had never helped him get women. He tried opening with facts about his endowment in the past, but all it earned him were slaps and disbelief. The few girlfriends he had had in his young life were always intimidated by it and were all too shy and conservative to talk about it with their friends. But the dark and beautiful woman noticed. Her point made, her hand slipped back off his lap and clutched her drink.

“How do you know so much about me?” His bulge was obvious enough, but everything else wasn’t.

“Because I’ve been watching you for several nights now…” She then leaned in close and whispered his name into his ear.

“How do you know my name?” His arousal was making room for his panic.

She sensed this and realized she may have come on too strong. She really had been watching him come into that high-end bar, hoping to meet attractive young women, every Friday for several weeks. She had been bar looking for attractive young men. She had a particular taste, and after studying him, _hunting _him, she knew he fit the mold. However, she knew all that would probably be overwhelming for him to hear, so she gave an uncharacteristically softer touch.

“You’ve been giving out your name to the women here all night,” she said. He was, she wasn’t lying, and that was how she learned his name. She was just omitting what night she had learned it. To help even the playing field, she offered up her own name. “My name’s Mari McCabe.” It was clear he didn’t know who she was based on her appearance, and her name wasn’t helping.

“Well, if you’ve been seeing me strike out all night, can you tell me what I’m doing wrong?” He figured a female perspective would be invaluable. He also had completely overlooked how she’d known about him being ‘cute, funny, and eager to please,’ but by that point too much blood had rushed from his head for him to dwell on it.

“A lot of things,” but rather than list them off, she continued on to say, “but they all fall under the same umbrella: you can’t take a hint.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I said I was interested in you, in no uncertain terms, nearly five minutes ago and you’re still sitting here like all I’ve done is bat my eyes.” Her tone was more amused than annoyed. “I also grabbed your dick.” As if everything else wasn’t enough evidence.

“You were _serious_ about that?” He asked, flabbergasted that she had a genuine, sexual, interest in him. Self confidence was another problem he had.

“Very.” Her hand raked her fingers through his hair. Her breast pressed against his arm. “How about I keep spelling things out for you back at my place?”

_There’s a 50/50 chance she’s going to murder me_. _However, she looks wealthy, so if I’m was going to die, it at least won’t be in a dank basement, on a urine-soaked mattress, recorded by a VHS camcorder. If anything, my end will come during a twisted sacrificial ritual, ordained by the upper crust, in order to get plentiful stock for the year._ Given how hot she was, and how horny he was, he was willing to take those odds.

**[LATER THAT NIGHT, AT MARI McCABE’S GOTHAM RESIDENCE…]**

Mari insisted on driving them to her place. It was just as well, as he had taken an Uber to get to the bar. Her car, though, just helped to further impress on him her wealth, and further cement her out of his league. He just hoped that she wouldn’t realize that before the night was through. He also hoped he’d be able to get through the night without embarrassment and/or bodily injury.

The building they arrived at did nothing to sway how impressed he was by her. He had no idea what it was she did for a living. _Whatever her job is, she’s good at it_. The inside of her loft continued the impressive trend. A large, open plan living space with the living room, kitchen, bedroom, and various other rooms all within sight of each other.

_I’m sure it just seems bigger because of the open flow and these gigantic windows_. He was wrong. It would have been big even without them.

“Shoes off, please,” she instructed while walking ahead of him. Her tone was close to that of a mother firmly directing behavior.

_Hope I have time to get that image out of my head_. While doing as he was told, he noticed she didn’t take off her high heels. Not that he minded. She wore them well. While she walked off toward the kitchen, he took in how she decorated. Animals. That was the theme he picked up on right away. Paintings, sculptures, photos, but no furs or stuffed heads. _She likes animals, but she doesn’t like to hunt._

She did. Just not animals.

Rather than treat it like a museum, he did what he would do if he were in his own apartment: sit on the couch. There was no mistaking what Mari was up to. The kitchen was directly in front of him and unobscured. The bedroom was right behind him. A reminder at the back of his neck as to what he was there for. He hoped.

He feared.

When she turned back around, two drinks in hands, she saw he was still wearing clothes.

_Good_, she purred in her mind. _I prefer to unwrap my treats myself_. He was also bouncing his knee quite rapidly. _Maybe rum & Coke is a bad choice_. She didn’t feel like swapping out his drink for her whiskey, or fixing him something new, however. _He’ll need all the energy he can get, anyway._

Watching her hips sway, her breasts jiggle, and her eyes narrow in predatory focus did nothing to slow his nervous leg. The couch was spacious enough to afford them both a personal bubble. She didn’t take advantage of _that_. Sitting so close to him, he was able to appreciate her perfume. _Or is that just how she always smells_, he wondered, as the scent wasn’t flowery like most perfumes. It seemed more natural, more _primal_. Rather than get lost in that, he opted to drink from the glass she offered him.

He lurched and coughed but kept the over-eager sip down.

“This Coke’s gone bad,” he incorrectly advised. She gave a surprised laugh. _An accidental W is still a W._ Now knowing what to expect, he was able to take steadier sips. Just like at the bar, she stared him down with a knowing smirk. He had no idea what she knew. Rather than confront that, he just made small talk.

“This is a nice place,” he complimented, as if she didn’t already know that.

“Mhm,” she replied, because she already knew that.

“What do you do for a living?” If it was something he could see himself doing, he might consider switching career paths.

“You don’t care about that.” Her answer was sudden and brash.

_I don’t?_

“You’re just stalling because you’re unsure what to do next.”

_I am?_

“But you know _exactly_ what you want to do.”

_I do?_

“You want to _fuck _me.”

_I do._

Mari stood. She tossed back her drink and hiked up her skirt. He got just a peek of her lacey white underwear before she sat down on his lap. Not wanting him to spill his drink, she tossed back the rest of that, too. With a hunger in her eyes, translated by her hips, she was upon him. First her hands on his cheeks to steady him. Then her lips upon his lips to please him.

He melted into the kiss immediately. She already knew he was hers the second she saw him. Now he knew it too. Her lips were marshmallow soft. Her tongue was aggressive and demanding. He would give it everything, willingly. He wanted more of that kiss, and what it was promising.

Their hands roamed each other. His were caressing and curious. Hers were scratching and searching. She had already gotten his shirt off by the time he’d moved his hands past her shoulders. Mari wasn’t interested in some high school lip-lock, though. Grabbing his wrists, she planted his hands at the small of her back. She wanted them on her ass, but she also wanted him to make some of those decisions on his own. Mari didn’t want to just teach him everything. Mari was hoping to awaken something in him.

No matter what he thought to do, she swerved. Zigged when he thought she’d zag. She was a wild cat in his arms and if he didn’t act fast, he might lose her. Instinct. That’s all he had left. And his instincts were telling him to get two handfuls of her high and supple ass. Throwing caution to the wind, he sank his fingers into the dark flesh still hidden behind her bright dress. Not only did she not situp in a fright, or slap him with disgust, but she actually moaned. Hot breath against his neck, interrupting the hickey she was giving him. He swore he could feel her smile against his nape.

With how much she was grinding against his lap, it’s a wonder Mari couldn’t feel his skeleton through his body. There was at least one bone she could feel. She wanted to do more than just feel. Slithering down his body like a snake, she left firm kisses upon his body. A mapped trail of her journey from his lips, to his neck, down his chest, over his stomach, and ending at his ‘treasure trail.’

“God, I’ve never been this hard before,” he panted. His head had fallen back during her descent. He wished he could have watched her, but that may have been too much stimulation. He had no idea how much was ‘too much.’

“Does it hurt?” Mari asked, cooing past her pouting lips. His wincing squirm when she squeezed him through his pants answered that. “I can help.” Giving him no chance to object, she swiftly removed his belt, and yanked down his pants. Mari took a moment to appreciate the bulge in his boxer briefs. She would have claimed the young man no matter what he brought to the table. However, she was delighted it looked perfectly sized for her.

Though she tried, she couldn’t get it out through the barn door. It was too hard. Too substantial. No matter. She would just yank down his underwear and let him sit bare ass on her expensive couch. She could just buy another one; but she enjoyed his scent on it.

He sprung free with a gasp. A great relief washing over him. An even greater relief, and tension, crashed over him when she started to touch him. She began with her hands. Keeping one at the base, while the other crawled up the shaft, her fingers careful and deliberate like the feet of a stalking jungle cat. Her index slid over his slit and teasingly pressed down, forcing out another wince.

Mari was delighting in the power she had over him. She wasn’t aiming to become a leather-bound dominatrix, nor did she want to restrain and direct the young man. However, she did enjoy seeing that she still had ‘it.’ And she was going to enjoy ‘it’ for as long as she could.

Her kisses against his shaft were moist and soft. The teasing of her tongue between her plump lips unknown to anyone who could be watching. His fingers dug into the taut fabric of the couch. It took all his willpower to not cum. It took all his willpower to not do so when she was just dry humping him. Now he was contending with her delicate, teasing, lewd touch.

Those same kisses traveled from base to tip, ending there. With the final smooch, her lips stayed planted on the head. Then they opened. They poured slowly over the tip like syrup, gradually hiding him behind them. She kept her mouth wide enough to keep her incisors and canines away from the delicate flesh. Despite how much she wanted to bite down and illicit a fun reaction from him. Instead all he felt was warm, wet, softness.

Lips moved at an almost imperceptible deftness, massaging around the base of the head. Her tongue swirled and danced around every bit of his flesh she had in her mouth. Hot breath did nothing to lessen the building moisture at the tip. The pre-cum he gave dripped onto her tongue promised of something tastier. His legs were jittering. Mari laid her arm across them, steadying them under her firm pressure. His nervousness amused her to no end.

Her touch pleased him to no end. To his credit, he was holding out with more willpower than he’d ever exhibited in his life. If a Green Lantern ring came crashing in through the window for him at that moment, neither of them would be surprised. Yet he made one mistake: he looked at her. Compelled to see if the sight matched the feel and sound, he picked his head up and stared down at her. Then he saw them. Her eyes. Predatory, piercing, eyes that claimed they knew everything that made him tick; and she was going to prove it. In that moment, he came.

An embarrassment that lasted for more than several strong, thick, spurts. He desperately didn’t want to be a quick shot, not around her, but he failed. He couldn’t even apologize properly through all his panting. But he tried.

“I’m…sorry…I’m…” When his eyes opened again, he saw her. He saw her gulping down his faux pas. She even dragged her tongue across her lips and gathered up the bit that had overflowed from their corner. Had he not cum seconds before, he would have done so then.

Mari prefaced her response with a satisfied moan. “A good taste. Your diet is good, but you could use more pineapple in it,” she added with a smack of her thick lips.

He still felt guilty and embarrassed. “I’m sorry that was so-“ She stopped him.

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” Her tone was reassuring as she spoke. Her body was mesmerizing as she stood. “You seemed a little…antsy, so I went ahead and took out that first, eager, shot. Now you’ll be able to last longer when it counts.” _And at least you didn’t get all sweaty on my couch_, she thought. Peering down, she could see that he was already half hard. _Ah, youth_. She was determined to get him fully hard even sooner.

His eyes went wide when she hiked up her dress up over her wide hips, struggling for a moment to do so. They went wider when she pulled it up the rest of the way. Mari tossed the dress away with wild abandon and stood before him. In that moment he realized she was true art. The other stuff she kept in her apartment was crap in the face of her natural beauty. He could tell she was older than him, sure, though he didn’t know by how much (nor did she want him to know). None of that seemed to affect her beauty, though. _She’s flawless. _She was about to shift that ‘beauty’ to ‘pure sex incarnate’ rather quickly.

Mari’s thumbs hooked between her hips and her panties. Her breasts moved slightly as she leaned forward. Amber eyes never left his. As she moved, her panties slid down. At her knees they fell. One foot stepped out of them, while the other leg lifted at the knee and brought the hanging panties within her grasp. Standing upright, she held her soiled garment in front of him.

“See these?” she asked, demanding he look somewhere other than her body. “They’re _soaked_. _You_ did this. Be proud.” She let her aroma on the fabric linger in the air in front of his face for a moment. Then she balled up the panties and stuffed them into his pants pocket. A keepsake for him. A trophy for others, should he be so inclined to show it off. She wouldn’t mind. She liked showing off.

As if he needed further proof the panties were soaked, he looked at her pussy. It glistened for him. It beckoned for him. He yearned for it. His lips parted, further than the agape state they were already in, and he leaned forward. Yet she stopped him. A simple fingertip to his forehead.

“Good instincts, but I need something else from you right now.” Mari’s eyes darted down to his crotch. Fully hard, just as she wanted. She backed away, before her eagerness to have him eat her out overtook her. _Time for that later_. The click of her high heels broke him out of his trance. She was leaving. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him one simple command. Hopefully he’d hear while he watched her juicy ass.

“Come.”

“I already did,” he joked in a half-mesmerized state.

“Cute,” Mari giggled. “But I don’t need cute right now. Now, come.”

It wouldn’t be until she was completely out of his field of vision that he felt broken of her spell. Of course, he fell right back in. Looking back over the couch, toward the bedroom, he saw her walking. Her hips swayed with an obvious exaggeration, but he didn’t care. He just loved the way it made her ass move. He loved the way her legs swung in front of the other, like a model on the catwalk. Even her back looked sexy. Not wanting to give his second load to the couch, he stood up, and followed her orders. It took him tripping over his pants for him to remember he wore clothes. With every last garment pulled and kicked off, he followed her into the bedroom.

Mari sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, arms bracing against the mattress, and chest thrust out. He stood there for several beats, wondering what to do next. She was giving him no direction. No words, no guiding hands. She just waited. He’d have to roll those dice again and hope that what he wanted is what she was willing to give. Because she wasn’t going to tell him. She wanted him to _take_ it.

So, he did.

He dove into her like a bird of prey. She squealed happily. The two worked themselves further up the bed, so their legs weren’t dangling off the edge. Both completely nude, aside from her necklace, bracelets, and shoes, they entangled together. Legs, fingers, lips, passions. All wrapped up in each other and begging for more.

When he entered her, she gasped. He had covered her in such a thick fog of lust, she hadn’t realized he’d moved his cock to enter her. The head parted her lips and then he thrust. Not the smoothest of transitions, but one that neither of them minded. Her gasp of surprise, her breath holding for every beat that he rested within her, and then the deepening moan that followed as he started to move, would stroke his ego for years to come.

Missionary was not the wildest, kinkiest, position in the known catalog. Mari didn’t mind. Though she did make it a bit dirtier. Fingernails scratched at his back, leaving red trails that would linger for several days. Her legs wrapped around his waist; her thighs squeezed him tight as her ankles locked. The heels of her shoes bouncing against his ass as he thrust into her. Eventually they came loose and held on by her toes, swinging in the passion before being thrown off completely.

He bit into her shoulder as she breathed against his ear. Mari also breathed words of encouragement and praise as he fucked her.

“That’s it, keep fucking me. Don’t you ever stop! Fuck, that’s so good. You’re so good, baby. So good at fucking me like this. You make me feel young again! Oh, this is so _good!_ Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! Shit yes! Ooooh!” All phrases she uttered at least once each, usually more. The word he loved hearing the most was his own name. Said with such passion and want, either whispered into his ear or screamed throughout her echoing apartment, it drove him more than any dirty word could.

His hands were always doing two things: squeezing her thigh and squeezing her tit. Which hand was doing which alternated. Both overflowed from his eager hands. Both were so soft and so firm. He gave either their own unique attentions, too. Her thighs he scratched. Her breasts he pinched at her dark nipples. He couldn’t tell which she preferred, but she was definitely enjoying both.

When she eventually came, he wasn’t really aware she had. All he could tell was she had tensed up, squeezed tighter, and seemed to hold her breath for enough seconds to make him worried. Then suddenly, she relaxed. Curious, he lifted himself up and stared down at her, to see her condition. She was happy, so that was a relief. An open mouth smile that closed while biting her lip, and eyes that fluttered open to see him.

“Don’t stop on my account, baby.” Her hand through his hair, petting him. He hadn’t really stopped, he was just giving much gentler, unconscious, thrusts. “Do me from behind now.” Mari had wanted him to take charge, but she was still a woman who knew what she wanted, and she wanted it doggy style. She had expected him to take it slow, even fumble with the repositioning, but he surprised her. Mari let out a delighted squeak when in one motion he pulled out, flipped her over, and raised her hips. She took the few extra steps to get on her hands and knees proper and made sure to look over her shoulder at him.

Having this sexy, vivacious, powerful woman at his mercy made him feel sexy, vivacious, and powerful. Maybe not vivacious, but sexy and powerful to be sure. Her ass waited under his gaze. Mari moved her hips eagerly. For a moment, he looked away. He looked at the powerful statue behind her bed. A life-sized onyx statue of a lion. A lion mid pounce before a kill. Primal. Powerful.

Like that lion, he felt primal and powerful. And her ass was his prey. With primal need, he lined up his head with her squeezing asshole, and prepared to give a powerful push. Then Mari stopped him.

“Whoa there!” Mari laughed, holding a finger in front of her asshole. “Not that kind of ‘do me from behind.’ Just keep fucking my pussy…” she gave a pause and made sure his eyes were locked with hers, “…for now.”

A hiccup in his power fantasy, but a minor one. There wasn’t an element left that wasn’t a fantasy for him, anyway. His misstep just served to prove it wasn’t all a dream. So, with a primal need, he lined up his head with her dripping pussy, and prepared to give a powerful push. Then Mari let him.

Both gasped as if it was the first time all over again. It helped that she felt his pelvis slam against her ass. It helped that he felt her ass slap against his pelvis. Neither gave the moment time to linger. They were both too eager to continue.

He noticed Mari had become quieter in the new position. He also picked up that she was stifling her words. Her moans were muffled, hidden behind her squeezed-tight lips, when her lips weren’t being chewed on.

She was holding back any instructions. She was eager to share what she wanted him to do, but she needed to know he wanted to. How could he not, she thought? With her biggest, best, feature being slammed into. If he didn’t realize it, then he was more oblivious than she thought.

Thankfully he wasn’t.

Much to their shared delight, he started appreciating her bubble butt. Squeezing it, caressing it, testing its bounce, softness, and firmness. No matter what he did to it, it sprung back to its perfect, round, shape. His hips danced to the sound of him pounding against her ass as he slid into her snug pussy. The wet sounds that accompanied the fucking certainly helped, too. Then he slapped her ass.

A little one, at first. A testing one.

She didn’t react.

He did it again. Harder.

She didn’t react.

He gave a third, a bit harder.

She finally reacted.

“Harder!” The word escaped her mouth in a burst. It was eager, demanding, and needful.

He wasn’t sure if she meant the slapping or the fucking. So, hedging his bets, he did both. He heard no objections. Quite the opposite. Every thrust was followed by a spank. Every spank was followed by a thrust. The rhythm broke every so often so he could keep her on her toes, while she was on her knees. Occasionally he would pause the fucking, hilting himself into her. He’d do so to take a moment to appreciate her ass. Squeeze it deep, pushing his fingers into the yielding flesh. He massaged it like a dough. Then he’d go right back to fucking her wild.

Mari’s arms eventually gave out. She’d held herself up on shaking limbs for too long. Her face hit the pillow, happy as can be. He didn’t slow down for a second. Much to her delight. What’s more, he leaned forward. He overtook her ass and planted his hands on the bed. Her eyes ran up the limbs, admiring the definition in them, and the beads of sweat that traveled those shallow valleys.

As he humped her ass, dick snug inside her box, his hand reached under her and took a swinging breast. Her nipple felt as hard as his dick had before she blew him. The nipple pressed into his palm with his firm grasp. Just like with her ass, he squeezed it, massaged it, and tested its firm perkiness. He even managed to summon some strength to give it a few slaps, which Mari giggled at in arousal and surprise. Most of his strength was saved for his hips, though.

Then she came. Again. The second time was far more powerful than the first, and he could make no mistake to what it was. It was tight, almost enough to worry him. Boiling hot and gushing with juices. She wasn’t quiet the second time around, either. She was loud, only managing to muffle herself in her pillow after the first few seconds of an elongated ‘fuck.’ Her leg started jittering, just as his had when he was nervous.

He had hoped to hold out for longer. Maybe carry that same hard-on into a new position and really surprise her. But, as he had already learned, he wasn’t dreaming. It was reality. Which made it all the sweeter. In her vice-like, oven-like, ocean-like grip he came. Though he didn’t know it, he’d given her a third, albeit smaller, orgasm by cumming inside her.

Mari had already felt so perfectly full. Stretched tight, but not overwhelmingly, painfully, so. Then he proved her wrong. He gave her a new, truly perfect, fullness. He filled her up even more with his thick cum, filling up any remaining space she had afforded his cock. And she loved it. She loved every virile drop filling her up. When he finally fell back, slipping out of her, she gasped. It was a sudden change, but an eventual one, and one she didn’t begrudge. It let the mixture of his and her cum to mingle more and drip out of her; ruining her expensive sheets. She could just buy more; but she enjoyed his seed on them.

Catching his breath, he sat behind her and just watched her ass sway. He was coated in sweat, but she had only begun to build up some herself. Sex clearly still on her brain, she reached back and rubbed her middle finger against her dripping lips. Then she rubbed that same finger against her forbidden hole.

“So rich and creamy,” she purred. “The cum of a virile young man.” Mari hadn’t let him fuck her in the ass that night, but she was getting his climax in there anyway. He had hoped to outlast her, capitalize on his youthful vigor, but she’d more than outlasted him. Unable to process or do any more, he fell back the rest of the way and passed out, exhausted.

Mari knew she’d outlast him, capitalizing on her years of experience, but she’d only just barely done so. She’d lasted far longer in the past with her young playthings. However, she’d found something special with him. Mari’s suspicions proved accurate. There was a lot of untapped potential in him, and she’d gotten only a lick of it, she was sure.

More than satisfied, for now, she slid to lay atop him, trapping his, once-again hard, cock between her thighs, and rested her head on his slowly rising and falling chest. 

**[THE NEXT MORNING…]**

He hadn’t moved an inch while he slept, but he woke up alone. Still in Mari’s bed, so he at least knew it hadn’t been a dream after all. Where his dream girl was, however, he wasn’t sure. Still somewhat tired, he sat up with his slowly returning strength. Now that he wasn’t so focused on Mari, with her outstanding body and overwhelming sexual appetite, he could get a good look at her room.

The décor matched that of the rest of the apartment. Animal themed. Specifically, African-based, he figured. Though he knew nothing of art. Still, lions, elephants, rhinos, they all spoke of one place in his mind. His body turned and he looked at the walls surrounding the doorway, though there was no door. On either side of the entrance, there was a large, framed, print.

On the left side, a magazine cover. The cover girl was Mari McCabe. His Mari McCabe. She looked a bit younger, but no less fierce, sexy, and dripping with desire. The fur bikini she wore was reminiscent of Raquel Welch in _One Million Years B.C._

_Wow,_ he thought with a doofy smile, _she’s a model_. It then dawned on him that he’d seen her before. He didn’t follow fashion or models, but it was hard not to have at least a passing experience seeing ‘Marvelous’ Mari McCabe. He gave a curt laugh after the initial shock. The story of his bedding of the gorgeous African goddess was going to be unbelievable enough but add in the fact that she was a super model and now he was sure he’d be committed to a ward.

On the right side there was a newspaper page. Obviously blown up to match the height and width of her enlarged magazine cover print. It was a front-page story.

_THERE’S A NEW HERO IN TOWN – VIXEN_

Along with the article itself was a photograph. An action shot, taken while the titular Vixen was pouncing on a bank robber. The black and white of the photograph had been unable to capture the color of her animal shaped aura, but the aura was still there. Yet his eyes were only focused on her. She looked fierce, sexy, and…

_Wait a minute…_

He crawled forward in the bed, getting a better look at the huge print. There could be no doubt. It was her. Not only had he had sex with Mari McCabe, but he’d also had sex with her alter ego: Vixen. He’d taken home a rich African goddess, who also happened to be a super model, who also happened to be a super _hero_.

_Maybe I _should_ be committed_, he thought, falling back. Given no time to process the wealth of revelations, Mari came swaying into the room. She stood in the entry way, dressed in a white satin robe, that was shorter than practicality would allow and parted enough to tease her cleavage, and holding a tray of breakfast food.

His eyes darted between all three Mari’s. His mind struggled to piece them all together into one woman. A woman who was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. A bedroom he was in. While she was holding breakfast. For him. After the night of vigorous fucking.

“You…you’re her…You’re Mari McCabe!” he stammered.

“Uh huh,” she agreed “I told you that last night, baby.”

“No, I mean, you’re Mari McCabe! The super model! And-and-and you’re Vixen! The superhero!” He got her up to speed.

Mari looked left. She looked right. She looked back at him.

“Look at that, you figured it out,” Mari teased before approaching with the freshly made food. “At least you knew me at all to forget who I was.” Mari sat on the bed, resting the tray between the two of them. She’d made enough for both. She was hungry too, after all.

“Oh…” Though she didn’t play it off as such, he assumed he’d offended her somewhat by forgetting who this world-famous model and hero was. “No, no, it’s not like-“ Mari held up a hand to stop him, and took a few beats to finish her bite of toast before reassuring him.

“Relax, it’s fine,” she shrugged. “It used to bother me, sure. Being aged out of modeling. Never standing out enough in the hero life to earn _that_ spotlight. But I’m over it. I mean, who can stand out when you got the pair of Wonder Woman and Power Girl, and their pairs, out there fighting crime?”

“Who?” He joked, but they both knew he knew who they were. He was oblivious, but not that oblivious.

Mari’s snorting laughter and struggle to keep from coughing up her sip of orange juice made both of them feel better. Her laughter stroked his ego more than all of her sexy gazes and hot moans from the night before had. Not that he wanted to lose those, either. Mari slapped his arm at his joke and goofy attempt to make her feel better.

She did feel better.

“Anyway, it _used_ to bother me. But a friend helped me realize that there were other ways to feel powerful, appreciated, and young again,” Mari explained, offering him a slice of toast.

“Is that why you picked me up?” he asked. “Because I’m young?” He assumed her method of feeling powerful, appreciated, and young was picking up younger guys. He still had no idea how old she was, but she didn’t seem much older than him. Maybe that’s because her technique really did make her feel young again.

“And because you’re cute, funny, and eager to please,” Mari added, not wanting him to feel like he was just some piece of meat. Though she did find him to be a juicy, tender, and delicious slab of meat.

“Don’t forget my dick print,” he jokingly added, reminding her of her reasons from the night before. Her laugh once again made him feel fantastic. The toast and OJ were also good.

“There’s that sense of humor I was talking about,” Mari beamed. “That’s why you’re going to make the perfect trophy boyfriend.”

Now it was his turn to keep from spitting up his orange juice. “Trophy boyfriend?”

“Don’t tell me you want this to just be a one-night-stand,” Mari pouted.

“It’s not that.” It really wasn’t. The boyfriend part didn’t bother him at all. “It’s the ‘trophy’ part. I’m not a trophy boyfriend. If I’m any kind of trophy, it’s a participation ribbon.”

Mari giggled. “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’re more than that. Though…I’ll admit, you’re not _quite_ at your best.”

“What do you mean?”

“Want to know why I _really _chose you?” Mari leaned forward.

“If it’s that you were just preparing me for a ritualistic sacrifice conducted by rich people in robes and masks, can we at least do it one more time?”

Another smirk and slap to his arm later, and Mari continued. “I’m serious. More than being cute, funny, eager to please, and hung, what I saw in you was _potential_.” Before he could come up with another quip or joke, Mari nimbly straddled his lap, all without upsetting the tray of food. Her robe slipped open further, giving her the same level of plunging neckline as her dress had the night before.

“Right now, you’re great,” Mari revealed, “but you have the potential to be _astounding_. Stick with me, baby. I’ll work that lean body into something that’d put Batman to shame. I’ll give you enough confidence to motorboat Power Girl the second you meet her. You’ll feel better, live better, and _fuck_ better. What do you say, baby?”

“There wasn’t one word of that I didn’t like,” he replied with a smirk. “I’m in.” To cement the arrangement, he slid his hands up her thighs and squeezed her bare ass hiding behind the robe.

Overjoyed, she kissed him firmly. What followed most definitely caused the tray of food to spill. She could just buy more; but she enjoyed him.


End file.
